


Mr Butler's day off

by davidandbillie



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8253095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/davidandbillie/pseuds/davidandbillie
Summary: Modern Au. Inspired by alijohnson's YACI.





	

Mr Butler’s day off.

 

The back door snicked shut and Mr Butler’s eyes opened at the sound. The rhythmic ‘click, click’ of a bicycle as it was wheeled across the garden confirmed his suspicions. The Inspector was going on his Sunday morning ride. 

Mr Butler glanced at his clock radio, which showed ‘5.30’ on the display. “The Inspector should make the social ride from North Road Corner by 5.45” he thought.

He closed his eyes again, hoping to back to sleep, or at least doze. Taking steady, regular breaths, he ran his mind through the preparation of his favorite dessert: Passionfruit Pavlova.

“Six egg whites, two cups of castor sugar, lemon juice…glass bowl, metal spoon, round pavlova tray, baking sheet….” He was asleep before he got the break the eggs.

But the sleep was only a cat nap as Mr Butler’s eyes reopened. The clock now showed 6.05. He sighed, and considered if he should get up. Normally he rose at 6.00, but today was his day off and he had an outing planned for later in the day.

His thoughts drifted to Jane’s attempt at making meringue. He remembered teaching her to make it, when Jane herself came into his thoughts. He then climbed out of bed without hesitation.

A brief shower and Mr Butler dressed for the day. Considering the day’s activities, he chose to wear his best suit instead of his usual daily wear, which normally consisted of casual trousers and a collared shirt, topped with a knitted vest or jumper. He no longer wore a suit or uniform ‘to work’. He only adorned formal attire when Miss Fisher arranged an important dinner or social evening. A masculine apron was now his only uniform. Currently, his favourite apron was actually a barbeque version with “Kiss the Cook!” in big print on the front. (A birthday gift from Jane.)

The same young lady had once remarked that one of her school friends asked her “if her Grandfather always does the cooking?” He had replied in an offended tone “I am a trained chef and caterer. I am not a geriatric relation who heats baked beans and wears slippers!” Jane promptly bought him slippers for Christmas.

He emerged from his ground floor unit (“I live in the Domestic Quarters, not a “granny flat’” he had once corrected Jane) and was in the kitchen mixing flour and eggs when he heard the predictable thud from upstairs. It was followed by stomping and slamming of the bathroom door. 

Five minutes later, as he turned the first pancake, Jane appeared in the doorway in her supermarket uniform. 

“Mr B, do we have any muesli bars? I don’t have time to have breakfast, so I can eat a muesli bar while I run to work.”

“That would be most inadvisable Jane” said Mr Butler smoothly. “You have time for a proper breakfast because I will drive you to the supermarket. Then you will be there in good time.”

“Are you sure Mr B?” asked Jane, “It’s your day off.”

“Of course I am sure” replied Mr Butler, “I am available to drive you to work, as my activities are not until later in the day.” He slid a plate of pancakes in front of Jane. “And I don’t want you getting indigestion either.”

Jane smiled her thanks and reached for the maple syrup.

Fifteen minutes later, Mr Butler nosed the Corolla out of the garage and onto the street. It took less than 10 minutes to drive Jane to the supermarket for her 7.00 am shift.

“What are you going to do today?” asked Jane, “Are you going to see your friend in hospital?

“No” replied Mr Butler, “I will see some family and will probably go for a drive.”

“That’s nice” said Jane automatically as she looked out the car window. “I hope you don’t have to park far from your car, it looks like it may rain later.”

“I will have my coat and brolly” smiled Mr Butler as he parked beside a van unloading flowers.

Jane sighed as she looked at the supermarket’s front door. “I hope that jerk Allan is not the Duty Manager today” she said suddenly. “He is the worst task master and stickler for the rules!”

“Which is why he is a manager” advised Mr Butler, “because he gets things done properly.”

Jane just grunted in reply, so Mr Butler followed with “I believe you once said to me ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!’”

Jane sighed and said, “Is that saying I should keep going with a science degree that will have no real job at the other end?”

“What do you think?” he asked.

Jane laughed and said “Yes, you are always right Mr B.” and lent over to kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for the lift. Have a great day out.”

Mr Butler smiled as Jane disappeared around the flower delivery van.

“Flowers” he thought, “Yes, good idea.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
Mr Butler was nursing a cup of tea and reading the front page of “The Age’ when he heard the back gate slam and the ticking sound of a bicycle being wheeled across the yard. 

“Seven thirty” he thought, looking at the clock, “All is well.” He cracked an egg into the boiling water and switched on the kettle.

Jack came in the back door, his hair windswept and his lycra suit unzipped to his waist. His cycling shoes clacked as he crossed the floor. 

“Was your ride uneventful ride, Inspector?” inquired Mr Butler putting the toaster into use.

“Yes, thank goodness” replied Jack, grabbing a well located towel off the back of a chair, “There were probably 25 or so in the pack, and no one pushed for unnecessary supremacy.” He rubbed the towel over his head before continuing, “They all obeyed the road rules as far as I could see, so my blood pressure did not have to go any higher than it needed to!”

“So no accidents thankfully” smiled Mr Butler, pleased that he had not have to repeat the time he had once accompanied Phryne to “scrape the Inspector off the road.”

“No, all good” said Jack leaning over the table to look at the newspaper, the towel looped loosely around his neck.

“Were many going on to join the ‘Hell ride’?” asked Mr Butler, as he plated the food.

“Some, but mostly young blokes. I wasn’t interested. I have too much on my plate to risk life and limb screaming up and down Oliver’s Hill in a pack of 200 MAMILS.”

“Not to mention the life and limb of those wishing to cross the road” chuckled Mr Butler as he placed the plate on the table. “Your breakfast, Inspector.”

“Mr Butler, it’s your day off, you shouldn’t cook me breakfast?” exclaimed Jack as he appreciated the poached egg and avocado on sourdough, with a side of smoked salmon.

“It’s my pleasure, Inspector” said Mr Butler, as he poured Jack a cup of tea. “I am not going out until later, so it was no trouble.”

“Well, don’t you cook dinner tonight, I can stir up something simple for the three of us, and you can relax and stay out longer” said Jack as he sat and reached for the plate.

“I am sure I will be home in time for dinner preparation” said Mr Butler a trifle firmly. He thought the Inspector a passable cook, but it was the desecration of ‘his’ kitchen he wanted to prevent. 

On previous occasions after Jack and Jane had cooked, Mr Butler had found his good bread knife in the dishwasher, meat juice on the vegetable chopping board, and an opened and uncovered half -full tin of tomatoes in the refrigerator. He gave a slight shudder at the memory.

“Are you going to your men’s group luncheon today?” asked Jack as he tucked in.

“No. I’ll probably do a bit of cooking with family” replied Mr Butler, running the water to hand wash his poaching pan.

“Hmm” said Jack reading the paper in between mouthfuls.

There was a moment of silence before Jack burst out with “I don’t believe it!”

“Something amiss Inspector?” Mr Butler looked up, his tea towel in hand.

“This newspaper article! It implies that Police procedure failed to maintain a crime scene. Therefore that wife murderer we worked so hard to put away, is able to apply for bail!!” He pushed to paper away in disgust.

“Is he a danger to society at large?”

Jack snorted. “He was a danger to his wife until he killed her! Some arse-about lawyer will claim that he is not dangerous, as he no longer has a wife!”

“A difficult situation” said Mr Butler, “does this mean you have to re-solve the crime?”

“No” said Jack, “It is all in the hands of lawyers now. I just have to insist all staff are un-relenting in maintaining police protocol.”

“An endeavor you have continued to set an example of, your whole career” affirmed Mr Butler.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
At nine thirty, Mr Butler took the prepared tray with a croissant and black coffee upstairs. He knocked on the bedroom door. “Breakfast Miss” he called before entering.

A sleep tousled Phryne sat up in bed and groped around for extra pillows.

“Morning Mr B” she said “is it a lovely day?”

“It is a very nice day thus far” he replied. “Jane arrived at the supermarket on time and the Inspector survived his bike ride unscathed.”

“Wonderful!” said Phryne, now sitting comfortably, “so I can relax over breakfast and not rush off to save the world!”

“No saving required” smiled Mr Butler, “however, the Inspector has gone out.” He placed he tray across her lap.

Phryne looked up from her breakfast. “Has he! Should I be concerned?”

“He has gone to his mother’s house to attend to some maintenance issues” said Mr Butler, “and he also said something about looking into why her electricity bill was so high.” 

Phryne sighed. “Once in fraud, always in fraud! Jack probably thinks that she is being charged at an over- premium rate, when, in reality, Joan has probably just left a few too many lights on!”

Mr Butler smiled and continued “He asked me to remind you that you are expected to lunch at Mrs Robinson’s at one o’clock.”

“Oh yes, I forgot about lunch” said Phryne, “I had better limit myself to only a light breakfast Mr B. I’ll be groaning after a full meal with the whole Robinson clan.”

“Will Jane be joining you?” asked Mr Butler.

“Yes, she is expected at lunch. Luckily, she’s happy to go, she gets on well with Jack’s young cousin. Although she finds the young boys a bit much to handle.” Phryne paused, “As do I!” 

Phryne sipped her coffee before smiling at Mr Butler. “I suspect it is because Jane does not have the experience of young children.”

“Possibly!” Mr Butler was diplomatic.

“I just hope I don’t have to sit next to the cousin's odious boyfriend. His social skills are basically Stone Age! Not to mention his state of dress. And Joan thinks he’s wonderful because he set up her new computer and introduced her to Facebook.” Phryne pulled herself up. “Jack was going to do it, but he actually does work for a living!”

“I am sure you will charm the children and draw out even the most reluctant conversationalist, odious or otherwise!” said Mr Butler, “as I have been told that you have the persistence to get a confession out of many a hardened criminal.”

“Thank you Mr B” said Phryne graciously.

Mr Butler decided to change the subject. “If everyone will be out, I won’t leave anything prepared for lunch then.”

“No thank you Mr B. You enjoy your day off. You should have left before now.”

“No, I am not having a big outing. However, I will be home for the evening meal” Mr Butler confirmed.

“Well, we won’t be needing any dinner. At least Jane and I won’t. It is fortuitous that Joan asked us to lunch on your day off,” said Phryne, taking a bite from her croissant.

“A happy coincidence” agreed Mr Butler, who was on excellent terms with Joan Robinson.

“Do you have anything planned for today?” asked Phryne. “A museum tour perhaps?”

“Family conversation,” Mr Butler gave. “Will that be all, Miss?”

“Of course Mr B. Have a lovely day.”

……………………………………………………………………………………….  
Mr Butler pulled up in front of the high brick walls that surrounded the garden. He opened the back door of the car and pulled out a folding chair before placing the flowers in a basket next to some sandwiches, a thermos and a well-thumbed copy of “Songs of the Sentimental Bloke” by C.J. Dennis. After looking at the sky, he decided to put on his overcoat as well.

He walked through the wrought iron gates and down the asphalt path, heading to the flower garden at the far western end. He could see families, couples and lone individuals like himself. A few dogs on leads. Some teens raced past on skateboards. Mr Butler smiled at their carefree manner.

Reaching his destination, he unfolded his chair and placed it on a level patch of grass. As expected, he was alone. He studied one of the rose bushes. It was a ‘Jane McGrath’ rose that he had specifically chosen, when he ‘sponsored’ the replacement of the bush before it.

He bent down and pulled a few weeds from the base, taking care to ensure the engraved plaque could be read. He placed the flowers beside it, which, he reflected, was a bit like ‘taking coals to Newcastle’.

He sat in his chair beside the flower bed and said to the rose, “My Dear, every day I hear your voice telling me to persevere, and every day, I do my best.” Then he turned his face to the weak sun, to enjoy the rest of his free day.

 

I deliberately mixed the days of the bike rides, to fit the story. I am sure NP would have been on the Hell Ride.  
http://www.taste.com.au/recipes/14966/pavlova  
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hell_Ride,_Melbourne  
http://cyclingtips.com/bunch-rides/bunchridefinder/  
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Songs_of_a_Sentimental_Bloke  
http://www.mcgrathfoundation.com.au/BCAM.aspx


End file.
